


Fallen Kings

by papyrus4sirus



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Ghosts, Hamlet Vibes, Incest, M/M, Mirkwood, Supernatural Elements, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papyrus4sirus/pseuds/papyrus4sirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fragmented look at what life could have been like for Thranduil had he not assisted in the battle of the five armies and had Legolas not been so defiant. Supernatural elements in this story are similar to what you would find in Hamlet or Macbeth. </p><p> Timeline starts during The Hobbit: The desolation of Smaug up through LotR: Return of the King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen Kings

Legolas returns to his father’s side though not with the escaped dwarves as he was tasked to do; instead a vile orc is trailing in front of him and Tauriel. Thranduil is not pleased by the sight.

They interrogate the orc, trying to discern its presence in their woods. Tauriel is eventually dismissed while Legolas persists in his inquiry.

The foul words slipping past the orcs lips begin to reveal much of his plans, too much in fact. Thranduil’s eyes widen at the admissions uttered from crude lips. Panicking, Thranduil aims and promptly dispenses of the creatures head.

“Why did you do that?” Legolas chastises.

Thranduil’s motives are selfish. He knows that if the orc had been allowed to carry on, Legolas would be tempted to take up arms in defense of Middle Earth; an outcome Thranduil cannot bear.

Legolas’ protestations continue in the background of Thranduil’s mind.

Mustering a façade of arrogance to shield his trepidations Thranduil replies, “There was nothing more he could tell me.”

He turns to avoid seeing the conflict in his sons’ eyes. Sweeping from the room Thranduil bequeaths orders with a cold confidence, attempting to cleave the tremor he feels growing in his core. To ease his anxiety Thranduil commands that no one leave Mirkwood; his son would not defy the order of his king.

As Thranduil exits the room memories of the War of the Last Alliance come crashing down with terrible clarity. The faces of old, the sounds he can’t forget. The tendril of fear begins to expand in his chest, forcing him to quicken his pace. Once he reaches the seclusion of his room, he allows both his stature and expression to change. Thranduil has worked tirelessly for centuries to keep Legolas within arm’s reach. Could all of his careful consideration be undone by the words of an orc? He trembles at the possibility.

A sudden knock pulls Thranduil from his reverie.

“Enter.” He calls, deftly reconstructing the demeanor of a king. 

Legolas passes through the ingress, his face pinched and his steps anxious.

“Tauriel has left.”

Thranduil tilts his head in impatience, knowing Legolas means to say more.

Legolas looks to the ground, “And…I meant to follow her but I could not bring myself to disobey you.”

Elation swells in Thranduils’ heart, triumphantly snuffing out his prior apprehensions. His relief is so great he fears it might show, but it would matter not for Legolas’ eyes are still gazes at the floor.

“Legolas,” Thranduil says softly, “Tauriel has chosen her own fate.”

His son cannot know how truly selfish his words are. Legolas meets his eyes and looks regretful.

 

~~~ 

 

Messengers arrive daily with word of the perils of Laketown- fire, death, and mischievous dwarves. All of this Thranduil listens to without any intention of providing aid. He makes sure Legolas is never close at hand when news of the outside world is received. Thranduil has been fortunate and he does not mean to test his luck so recklessly.

Legolas is gloomy, withdrawn even. Thranduil takes care to be more present.

 

~~~

 

The battle had waged on without the assistance of the elves; dwarves, orcs and men slain in the ruins of a once glorious city.

Thranduil retains his lack of empathy.

Months pass and soon years with Thranduil insinuating himself more deeply between Legolas and the whole of middle earth. His greed is not for gems as was common among Thorin’s clan but rather for the life of his son; Thranduil’s hold on him growing stronger with each new day.

 

~~~

 

Thranduil watches as Legolas grows restless, his eyes looking out the window unseeing. That loathsome desire to see the world not yet extinguished by Thranduil’s manipulations. Thranduil wonders how long he can sustain this.

Legolas’ nimble fingers trail along the windowpane and Thranduil feels an enormous sense of regret.

But then Legolas is turning to look at him, his eyes are bright and he smiles fully.

The regret is only fleeting and Thranduil remembers why.

 

~~~

 

“Are you well?” Thranduil asks one evening when he is alone with his son.

“Yes.” Legolas replies, his eyes downcast as he leans against the doorframe.

Thranduil is unconvinced and approaches Legolas.

“I care for your health.” Thranduil speaks earnestly.

Gently he rests his hand against Legolas’ cheek, beseeching him to speak. When Legolas does not meet his eyes Thranduil begins to draw his hand away.

Legolas’ hand stops Thranduil’s with a fierce grip. Thranduil watches with furrowed brows as his son slowly pulls his hand back. The extremity is brought back to Legolas’ face, the palm spread open and before Thranduil can comprehend his intentions, a soft kiss is pressed to the center of his hand.

Thranduil exhales a shaky breath, eyes wide.

“Legolas.” The name is clipped, uttered from his mouth with crippling difficulty.

Legolas ignores this in favor of drawing Thranduils’ middle finger deeply into his mouth.

Thranduil closes his eyes and drowns in the sensation.

A moment longer and he withdraws his hand forcibly from Legolas who finally looks up as if being startled from a dream.   

 Thranduil has been ill matched with much of Middle Earth, turned his back many times and kept safe the only things which matter; His kingdom and his son. He would deny many people many things, but not Legolas.

Thranduil does not allow the doubt to linger between them. Swiftly he captures Legolas’ mouth with his own ignoring all possible retribution for his actions. Legolas’ dry lips part instantly, his tongue delving into his father’s mouth with equal tenacity. Thranduil knows he has started them on a wretched path but does not bear the will or desire to right his wrongs.

 

~~~

 

The landscape outside Thranduils’ kingdom changes. A shadow, a sleepless malice encroaches on his woods. He feels the irreversibility of his actions more keenly as he walks through Mirkwood taking stock of the withering branches and the growing cobwebs. The woods are cold and gray, the air too still. When he returns to the palace he increases the security at its borders; loathe to admit to himself how severe the situation grows.

That evening Thranduil finds Legolas sitting on his bed when he enters his chambers. Thranduil situates himself next to his son.

“How was your venture?” Legolas questions, eager for information.

“Nothing of interest to report it seems.”

Legolas looks deflated, turning his eyes to his lap. Thranduil knows he is cruel for lying, for manipulating him closer to his side and further from the world.

“I’ve disappointed you.” Thranduil says, looking away with a sigh. This game of guilt he orchestrates with practiced ease.

“No, ada. I swear you have not.”

The ruse has worked once more.

Thranduil turns to Legolas bringing their lips together. The kiss deepens for long minutes, Thranduil’s bruising grip on his sons arms conveying his devotion.

When they part for breath, Thranduil freezes.

For in his line of sight, standing at the end of the room behind Legolas is his deceased father, Oropher.

His father’s pale unblinking eyes stare into Thranduil’s shocked ones. Oropher wears the same frail armor he wore the day he died in the War of the Last Alliance. A gash, raw and weeping mars his chest. The wound is as bloody as the last time Thranduil looked upon his prone form all those millennia past in the desolate fields outside of Mordor. Yet Oropher stands before him now clear and solid; his facial features still looking as though he’d been carved from fine bone with his customary silver circlet fixed atop his brow.

His appearance is not opaque as Thranduil believes an apparition should be.

Oropher’s gaze is unwavering, incendiary to Thranduil’s core.

“Ada?” Legolas questions with concern.

Thranduil turns his wide eyes to his son. Quickly his gaze flickers back to where Oropher stands, but he finds the room is quite empty.

Thranduil exhales roughly.

“What is it?” Legolas asks.

Thranduil hastily dispels his agitation.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Thranduil easily hides his apprehension.

Legolas seems unsatisfied with the answer but does not question him further.

“We should retire.” Legolas offers. Thranduil nods his assent.

As Legolas turns down the bed Thranduil stares transfixed at the spot where his father had stood.

 

~~~

 

The ranger from the north brings Gollum to his realm and this time Thranduil knows he is losing. The weight of Aragorn’s words is too profound and the ghastly creature is evidence of everything he has worked so hard to ignore. Legolas is incensed, demanding Thranduil take action. Thranduil imprisons the creature Gollum, hoping to bide his time.

Gollum, however, escapes.

“Of course you must tell Elrond of this news.” Thranduil states, his world shattering by his own admission.

“I will go at once.” Legolas declares. His chin is held high.

There is no warmth in his departure, no comforting sounds.

As Legolas exits through the gates with his faction he passes a figure whose head turns in Thranduil’s direction. Drawn to the motion, Thranduil looks over and is met with his father’s stare.  Oropher, once more risen from his watery grave. Thranduil does not see his son galloping away in the distance for his eyes never leave Oropher’s. Blood drips from his chest onto the grass. The hint of a smile flickers across his ancient features. It startles Thranduil. He blinks and Oropher is gone in an instant. The gate and the trees look deceitfully mundane in his absence.

 

~~~

 

“He won’t come back.” The ghost of his father speaks plainly from behind him.

Months of agony and fear have passed and Oropher is too often present.

“Stop your lies.” Thranduil hisses over his shoulder, refusing to look at him.

“You can face me no more easily than you can his demise.” The elder elf taunts.

Thranduil pinches the bridge of his nose, “Please leave.”

Thranduil waits an odd number of seconds before finally looking behind him.

The apparition of Oropher is gone but the room retains its chill.               

 

 ~~~

 

“Come to reclaim your throne?” Thranduil calls out scathingly when he sees the stark figure of Oropher slowly approaching him, blood never failing to trickle from the fatal blow across his chest.

Oropher’s nearly opal eyes are stern and unblinking.

“It never should have passed to you.” His voice is low, dissimilar from the tones it elicited in his life.

“I never wanted it.” Thranduil reveals in an equally quiet voice.

Oropher does not respond, instead he looks around the throne room with a lack of expression. When he’s done surmising the space, he fixes Thranduil with a piercing gaze.

“Sauron grows stronger; stronger perhaps than he did in my age and so too does your perverse love for Legolas fester deeper in your heart.”

Thranduil looks away. His mouth parts as if to reply, but soon closes after a shuddering breath.

“Why do you torment me?” Thranduil finally asks, unwilling to meet his father’s eyes.

Thranduil hears Oropher move toward him; can see him in the corner of his eye. Only when his father is standing directly in front of him does Thranduil turn his head and meet his gaze.

There’s a genuine and brief look of sorrow plaguing Oropher’s features.

“You do this to yourself.”

Oropher vanishes and Thranduil gasps, staring with frightened eyes at the empty space before him.

 

~~~

 

When news of the one rings destruction reaches Thranduil, Oropher is near him.

The mocking applause from his father resounds obscenely through the halls, but no one seems to notice.

 

 ~~~

 

For many months Legolas does not return home. He’s safe and well in Minas Tirith his messengers reveal one day. The news is but a small comfort. When the messengers depart Oropher stands in their stead.

“He will return.” Thranduil intones defiantly, sweeping past his father and exiting the room.

Legolas will return one day.

Thranduil is patient.

He can wait.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired partly by this tumblr [post.](http://eindir.tumblr.com/post/111529217667/greenwood-royalty-oropher-was-a-sindarin-elf%20)


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